Last Touch
by kittyge
Summary: Just a drabble JxM Can't really explain it though.


So it's not a story, but it's too long to be a drabble . . . so I don't know what to call it.

(MxJ)

**SUMMARY**: Joey briefly thinks about Mai as she is in a soulless state during Battle City Finals. Mai thinks about Joey immediately after she takes his soul.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh

Five cold fingers gently run across five cold ones. . . . freezing ones.

The coldness runs up his spine and he frowns. He would give anything for her to wake up at this moment. She'd probably be surprised at him even sitting beside her.

He wonders how she would feel about him holding her hand, clenching on it with almost all of strength, hoping that maybe some of his life . . . some of his energy would pump into her.

It's a hopeless thought, but he has nothing but thoughts left.

If only she would jump up from the bed and scream at him. He wouldn't mind the screaming, or the coldness blazing out of her eyes. He wouldn't even care if she was shut-off and silent.

All he wanted was for the two brilliantly amethyst orbs to pop open and stare into his honey-brown ones. Is that too much to ask?

He runs his fingers along her hand, aware that his previous squeezing was starting to make it change colors.

He wants to scream at her for being so stubborn. This . . . it has to be a joke, a prank, a lie . . . he'd take any and all of the choices.

Except for reality, he won't except that. He doesn't know how.

He blames himself, even though the others tell him that he shouldn't, he does. If only . . . he laughs . . . how does thinking of that help her now? He bites his lip and refuses to cry.

He won't cry in front of her, but he is half-tempted. She's walked in on his crying before. So maybe she'll wake up and laugh at him.

He knows she won't though. He knows it's all a lie to try to make him feel better.

He pulls the cold hand up so that it briefly brushes against his warm lips.

If this was a fairy tale, she would have woken up. Again, he is lying.

"I will save you Mai, I promise." he whispers to her in such a low voice that he wasn't even sure if he actually said it at all. Not that it mattered, the only reason she was here was because of broken words and power beyond her control.

Running his fingers along her hand, he only wishes he could give her something more to hold to. Some hope, some answer, some feeling . . . anything to hold on too.

A lone tears escapes from Joey's eye and falls on her hand. He's chocking up now, which clearly means it's time to walk back into the dark hallway into his room. He has to do that or his friends will worry about him obsessing.

"I promise." is all he can say as he lets the cold fingers drop from his warm ones.

* * *

He falls to the ground in such a fast manner that all she can do is stare before she runs over to his . . . dare she say lifeless body.

Tears fall freely now.

It was her fault, all her fault, noone else. Everyone knows that.

It wasn't fair. He wasn't supposed to give up. No, this wasn't supposed to be how it ended. He was supposed to be standing, laughing or crying.

She'd even take yelling and sarcasm.

Not this . . . this useless body that laid in her arms. She had already lost Valon and now . . .

She wouldn't accept it, she didn't know how.

Hurriedly her hand reaches down to his and she automatically latches onto it with a death-grip.

His skin is so cold to her and all she can do is hope that maybe the little bit of warmth she has will transfer to him.

It's stupid and she knows it, but she doesn't care.

This wasn't how it was supposed to work.

He quit on her . . . he quit . . . Joey Wheeler never quits. He never gives up.

Then why is his body lying at her feet? Why is the only thing she can do is squeeze onto his hand and cry?

Her tears splatter onto the ground making strange patterns.

She runs her fingers up and down his hand, hoping that it would become suddenly warm again . . . so that he could jump up and help her fix the mess she made.

She knows that will never happen.

If only . . .

She shakes her head sideways. Blonde hair flies everywhere and the once perfect curls tangle. She doesn't care, it doesn't matter.

She slowly pulls his hand up to her cold lips.

She knows she has no warmth to give him, no feeling, no happiness, no answers . . . but if he could just take her soul away . . . if he could just trade places then . . .

Believe it, if she could trade places, she would.

Then she wouldn't see Joey like this.

"I will save you. I just . . . forget it . . . I promise you." she whispers to him. Part of her knows he can't here her. She knows what happened.

All she knows is that she put whatever was left of her pathetic existence into those words.

And for the first time, in years, she means it.

She lets his hand drop from hers and it falls suddenly to the cold pavement.

"I promise." she says as she wipes her tears.


End file.
